He's My Husband! - Lindsay Armstrong [61]
‘Sweetheart,’ he said with an effort, then lifted her to a sitting position.
Her eyes widened.
‘Don’t look like that. There are just one or two formalities I’d like to deal with before—well, can you be patient for a moment?’
‘I...yes,’ she said.
He kissed her lips lightly and closed her robe. Then he got up and walked away. But he wasn’t gone long. He came back with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. He said, as he removed the gold foil and popped the cork, ‘I was going to wait for this, but I think we could do with it. Have a sip.’
She took the foaming glass and did as she was bid.
‘First of all—’ he sat down beside her and put his arm round her shoulders ‘—Marietta knows everything now. And in typical Marietta fashion she has made the necessary adjustments. You see...’
He paused and studied his glass. ‘Circumstance, and guilt about Sasha and Chris, made it look like a good idea for her to come back. But when I forced her to admit to herself that without those two things her career would still have taken precedence over us, she realised what I’d known for years—that the flame had gone out.’
Nicola took another sip, and blinked and sniffed.
‘And she sent you a message,’ he went on. ‘She said to tell you—and by the way, she connived at you being here alone with the kids, so you couldn’t run away from me.’
‘She did? I wondered about that!’
He smiled, and kissed the top of her head. ‘She said to tell you that she’d never felt more ashamed in her life than after what you said, and that now you wouldn’t have to worry about Chris and Sasha being with her, which they will be on a fairly regular basis. She also said—“Be happy, Nicky darling, with my sincerest blessings—I wish that for you more than anything else in the world. Not only because I love you, but because of what you’ve done for the kids.’”
Nicola burst into tears. He took her glass and held her close until the storm subsided, then dried her tears with his handkerchief.
‘Sorry,’ she said huskily. ‘But...but that’s Marietta for you.’
‘That’s Marietta for you,’ he agreed. ‘Have we finally laid to rest that—spectre?’
‘Yes. Yes. I mean, if you wouldn’t go back for the sake of Sasha and Chris...’
‘Exactly, but not only that. Most importantly because of you.’
‘I...’ She paused, then formed the words she’d never said. ‘I love you, Brett.’
‘Thank God,’ he murmured, and drew something out of his pocket.
‘What’s that?’
‘I was going to give it to you before we got married, but you objected rather strenuously.’ He clicked open a rather battered little leather box. There was a sapphire engagement ring in it. ‘It was my mother’s,’ he said quietly. ‘But you could have one of your very own if you’d like.’
She drew a trembling breath. ‘No. Oh, Brett, thank you so much. I’ll...I will always treasure it.’
He took it out of the box and slid it on in front of her wedding band. It fitted perfectly. He looked from it into her shining eyes and said, ‘There is one more convention we did away with at the time.’
‘What was that?’
‘A honeymoon. And before you worry about the kids—’
‘No,’ she said. ‘I mean, no, I won’t. And I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than be alone with you.’
‘Good. Not that we can go tomorrow—’
‘Why not?’
He laughed and kissed her. ‘It’s—well, it might take at least a day to organise.’
‘Then might I be allowed to show you what I’ve been bottling up inside me for longer than two years?’ she asked gravely. ‘Seeing that I’m not only twenty-one now, but your wife?’
He smiled down at her with his heart in his eyes. ‘I would be both proud and honoured, Mrs Harcourt.’
‘How often have I longed to do this?’ he said very quietly.
Her bedroom was almost in darkness, with only one bedside lamp on. Their clothes were scattered on the floor and they were lying on the bed. Brett had his head propped on his hand and he was just staring at her naked body, as if drinking it in. Then he raised his other hand and drew it down the curve of her hip.
She trembled finely, and touched her palm to his cheek. ‘You may never